


a sky enough for them all

by raven_aorla



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Daemons, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of vignettes involving a Vikings Daemon AU. Someone else's ideas used with permission - I am expanding on the original fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [in you everything sank.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/741633) by [CallicoKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten). 



> Title taken from the song "Dirty Paws", part of the album "My Head is an Animal" by Of Monsters and Men. Who are from Iceland. How could I resist?
> 
> Not my characters. I'm just having fun.

After Arielle had mustered the confidence to speak to Ragnar, she no longer cowered against Athelstan when the rest of the household came close to them. Gyda's own Alfr took to a variety of bird shapes so the two daemons could sit together in the rafters or a nearby tree branch and talk. 

"I've never seen Alfr so friendly with another daemon," Ragnar commented, bringing in an armful of wood and then sprawling across what was supposed to be Athelstan's mat - though given the laws here it still counted as Ragnar's. Bjorn was fishing and Lagertha off to visit a shrine to Freya to pray for more sons. Gyda smiled at her resting father from the other side of their small home and then went back to her weaving, humming to herself.

Athelstan continued cleaning, mending, and reinforcing Ragnar's leather battle boots. It turned out that in his former life one of his duties had included binding holy books in leather, so he picked up the similar skills quickly. His mind seemed elsewhere, though, when he said, "Arielle settled when I was twelve. Most of those who are called to serve as monks have smaller, ground-dwelling daemons."

"I remember that there were many dogs, with some badgers and rabbits, and hedgehogs that curled in on themselves in fright." The moment he said it Ragnar wondered whether it was wise to remind Athelstan of the raid on his former home. 

That didn't seem to be what was softening his voice and slowing his speech. "It is said that monks whom God grants winged daemons have a particular duty to spread God's word. I was chosen by Brother Cadfael to accompany him to your land. When he was a small child his family were fleeing some Jarl's wrath across the sea when they accidentally came to the shores of Northumberland. His parents and infant sister died of plague, so he joined the priesthood. He never forgot his own tongue and taught it to me so I would be prepared to assist him. But we did not set sail."

Intriguing. Ragnar sat up and Kolga descended onto his shoulder to listen more closely. "What happened?"

"It was discovered that Brother Cadfael's daemon, a seagull, was male. Father Cuthbert's daemon, a wolfhound, heard them speaking to one another about how they were pained by the secrecy. Though the Bible is silent on the matter, it is both tradition and the law of King Aelle that those with daemons the same sex as themselves are to be cast out. I don't believe it is what Christ wishes for us to do, but my protests on the matter resulted in my being assigned to copy out holy scriptures rather than go exploring, and in addition Arielle had to stay in a small cage I carried around with me for three months.

"That's terrible!" Gyda gasped. Alfr fluttered down to her side in the shape of a sparrow to whisper in her ear. 

Arielle likewise joined Athelstan, nestling in his lap. "We believe in God's love. We do not always believe in the wisdom and justice of mortal men."

Kolga clacked her beak. "You being your shape helped save your life, you know. Not only did it mean you learn our language and therefore be useful to us, but I said to Ragnar that I wanted to know what a bird was doing surrounded by dogs and little creatures of the woods - because even if a dove is small and delicate, it can still fly."

"Don't forget to feed the pigs," Ragnar said before going to bring the grazing cattle and goats in for the night. He knew if he stayed he would say things far too tender, too compassionate, too...in any case, the chores awaited. Kolga glided after him and made no further comment for once.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't easy hiding from the Jarl's men in the little family boat, though at least a pair of wolf daemons took up less space than other shapes like bears or deer would have. Gyda's Alfr helped by turning into a tiny mouse and disappearing in the folds of her skirt. Athelstan's daemon pressed close to him, not even fluttering, until they spotted Ragnar.

Lagertha heard the priest whisper something in one of his other languages - she didn't yet have Ragnar's ability to distinguish between the language of the Saxons and the special tongue used only for their rituals and prayers - to Arielle. He took a deep breath.

 

Then, to her and the children's surprise, Arielle flew up the side of the cliff to reach Ragnar. The priest had given no indication before of the magical gifts found in those who can separate from their daemons without agony. Then, looking at him, she realized why.

The priest _was_ in agony. He clutched at his chest as if he feared his heart would rip apart, his face even paler than usual and entire body quivering, yet Arielle continued to speed onwards to her husband as if she were an ordinary bird and not a daemon. Thank the gods in these lands such small birds were so uncommon as daemons, especially at such distance from their humans, that no thugs would suspect she belonged to someone. 

Lagertha took one of the priest's hands and combed her fingers gently through the hair of his no-longer-bald scalp, hoping to give him the strength he needed to send his message.

They saw Arielle speak to Kolga, the raven barely able to stay aflight, and then Ragnar dove into the water. Athelstan squeezed Lagertha's hand and plunged into the water as well to rescue him.

Lagertha put all her questions aside until after Floki had managed to stop Ragnar's bleeding and treat his other wounds with his magics, Floki so quiet and sober that Helgi stayed in the shape of a cat that very improperly curled up next to Ragnar and purred against his side, Ragnar himself so lost in shadows that he petted Helgi once or twice. Even if Kolga had not collapsed from exhaustion she probably would not have lectured about the breach in etiquette. Floki was not an ordinary man and nor should his daemon be expected to act like others'. Now that his most urgent tasks were accomplished Floki was urging Ragnar to drink some concoction while also singing what seemed to be a spell to keep Ragnar's spirit still in his body. 

Athelstan had wrecked himself by stronger forces than simple worry or fear. If Arielle could have melted into him and become one entity she probably would have. Instead she sat in his lap and borrowed against his belly. Quietly, so as not to disturb Floki's companion Helga who was telling the children a story in the corner in the hopes of cheering them, Lagertha said, "You are not naturally able to separate."

"No, we are not." The priest brushed his fingers over Arielle's feathers to soothe her. "Among the Saxons it is considered virtuous and a sign of strength to be able to separate. If it is not inborn, holy men and noblemen spend time training to increase the distance between themselves and their daemons. Novices at Lindisfarne were expected to practice starting as young children. For noblemen it's more about security - if they are threatened they want to be able to hide their daemons or send them to find help - but for holy men it's to show discipline and how God should matter more to us than having our own daemons close by."

Bjomolf stirred from his great lump of drowsy white fur to mutter, "Don't even think about it."

In turn, Lagertha chided, "I wouldn't worship any god that asked that of people. And you are my strength in battle and not a weak point."

The priest huffed what might have been a laugh. "It becomes more bearable, but it doesn't ever stop hurting."

He didn't protest when Lagertha put an arm around his thin waist. If he was so much less skittish now than when he first arrived, perhaps in a few months his answer to invitations might turn out different. After a moment he relaxed enough to let his head rest against her shoulder. "What was so important that you willingly put yourself through what looked like such torment?"

"I needed her to send a message." Athelstan looked over at Ragnar clinging to this world, his dearest friend and their daemons around him, tethering him as best they could. "She said that if he leapt I would pull him to safety."


End file.
